Fly, Fly Away
by SpobyFicStalker
Summary: "She saw an open suitcase – not an overly big one but packed to the brim all the same – and it hit her like a blow to the head because somehow she had managed to forget he was leaving for a job in Guilford later today." Spencer and Toby. Season 5. Oneshot.


A/N: Hiiiii. Thank you so much for the amazing feedback on my last story. I honestly didn't expect it to elicit so many reactions, and I'm amazed and grateful and I'm just in awe of the kind, supportive words you've all shared with me. Endless thanks. Really.

This one, though. Haha. I started writing it somewhere between 5x03 and 5x04, when I found out Toby was out of town _again_. My heart just broke for them because it seems they've been almost constantly apart since 4x12. In the meantime, having seen 5x04 and 5x05, I'm not sure where this fits it. I might just have to label it AU. Hopefully you guys enjoy it away? Maybe?

PS. I used a word in near the end of this fic that since 5x05 is suddenly a very Spoby word. And 5x05 was so great and I know I'll never be able to compete, but I swear I had that part already written before the episode aired. I don't know if you guys will believe me but it's the god honest truth. :)

* * *

**Fly, Fly Away  
**  
The church bells were ringing profusely in an almost deafening siren as four girls stepped out onto the tarmac. Their heels cluttered against the pavement and their hair twirled in the wind, and their faces were set in grim masks.

Only one of the four could be considered "related" to the person they would be putting in the ground, though it wasn't by blood. The deceased was the mother of her half-brother, Jason, with whom she shared a father and a sharp tongue. Spencer Hastings could still feel the fractures in her heart as she thought of Jason in the front pew, tears pouring from his eyes while his adoptive father and fair-haired sister sat there in stony silence.

When the girls greeted the family, they hugged Alison first. Then they smiled sympathetically at Mr. DiLaurentis and offered their condolences, but when Jason stood before them they shuffled awkwardly past him like he was a dog with rabies that no one wanted to go near. All except Spencer.

She eyed her brother – the one she didn't grow up with, the one she didn't even resemble much, and yet felt a striking connection to in a way that she never experienced with the people living in her house. Things were difficult between them now, confusing to say the least, but they had been friends once. And even if he decided tomorrow that he never wanted to see her again, Spencer knew she would always care about him. It pained her more than she ever would have thought to see how this loss had rattled his very being. All he had left now were two distant men who both considered someone else to be his father.

They had never been touchy-feely, but when Spencer reached out to gently place her hand on Jason's arm it felt natural – right, even. Their eyes held each other, and in that moment Spencer knew in her heart of hearts that he would never do anything to intentionally hurt her. No matter how bad things looked for him, this was a good man. It was a big deal to Spencer, who hadn't met very many good men in her lifetime.

She and the girls moved away, stood off to the side and waited for most of the people to clear out before they could have a real moment with Alison. They didn't talk much, but suddenly Hanna said Spencer's name and nodded towards the road behind her.

Spencer turned, and an immediate smile corrupted her face despite the bleak circumstances. She always felt happier when she saw him; it was like a chemical reaction her body went through where her levels of contentment instantly went up whenever her eyes landed on her boyfriend. Toby had wanted to accompany her to the funeral – not because of any affiliation with Jessica DiLaurentis, Spencer knew, but because he wanted to be there for her. But she had gently declined, telling him it was something she had to do with the girls, as a group, and after some persuading he had eventually backed down.

She didn't know why she was surprised to see him standing there, waiting for her.

"Guys, is it okay if I…?"

"Yeah," Emily replied without missing a beat, and the others nodded in agreement. "Go."

He got out of his truck when he saw her approaching, and wordlessly she walked into his awaiting arms. Her hands started at his shoulders and traveled down his back, and she felt him tug her closer in response. She sighed, closing her eyes at the sensation of his lips connecting with her shoulder in a barely-there kiss. He pulled back after a few long moments and reached for her hands, dangling them gently between their bodies.

"Was it awful?" he asked sympathetically.

She nodded with a sharp intake of breath. "Pretty much."

"Well…" His eyes looked her over appreciatively. "At least you look beautiful. That's got to count for something, right?"

She smiled at him, suddenly feeling so very lucky despite the fact that on most days she could barely keep her life together. He gave her an easy smile back and asked, "You want to get out of here?"

She nodded again. "Please."

He opened the door for her and drove her back to his loft in comfortable silence. It was only when he asked if she was hungry that she realized she was starving, so they went to work making a meal out of what they could find in his fridge. It wasn't much but somehow she found it delicious anyway, and Spencer couldn't help but think that the exceptional company probably had something to do with it. They lounged around on the couch afterwards, supposedly watching a movie, and it was only when she entered his bedroom to use the bathroom that it came back to her.

She saw an open suitcase – not an overly big one but packed to the brim all the same – and it hit her like a blow to the head because somehow she had managed to forget he was leaving for a job in Guilford later today.

It hurt a lot more than it probably should have. She knew he wasn't choosing to be away from her, and that he had to eat and pay his bills, and that he had just spent half a fortune on plane tickets to London and back (plane tickets that had amounted to nothing except the confirmation that her sister was a liar, and plane tickets he refused to let her pay back no matter how she begged)… but the thought of him leaving again, so soon after he got back, hurt like a bitch.

He must have caught something in her face when she walked back into the main area of the loft, because he immediately asked, "What's wrong?"

She shook her head and tried to smile. "Nothing."

She dropped back next to him on the couch, and found she couldn't quite look him in the eye. He looked at her closely for a moment before apparently deciding not to push. Instead he wrapped an arm around her and drew her against him, and she felt a sigh escape her as her body fused together with his.

Maybe it was the threat of him leaving again, or maybe it was that she still hadn't got over the last time, or maybe it was a little of both, but suddenly she found herself blurting out, "Don't ever do that again, okay? Don't ever leave the continent without talking to me first."

He was silent for a moment, and the gentle motions of his hand stroking her back also came to an abrupt halt. "Spencer, you know I–"

"I know," she interrupted him. "I know you did it for me. I know you thought you wouldn't be allowed to see me anyway, and I know you just did what you thought was the best thing at the time. And I'm grateful, don't get me wrong. I don't know anyone who would go that far for me. But just… don't do it again."

He tightened his arms around her and nudged her forehead with his nose, wanting her eyes. "I won't. Because next time I'm taking you with me, remember?"

It was a fantasy and they both knew it, but it made her smile all the same. She had spoken those words in the heat of passion, and at the time she had meant them with all of her heart and soul; but when he left her bed and reality came crashing back, she knew she could never do it. She could never leave her friends behind, alone, to fight the demons for which they all held equal responsibility. She had to hope that someday things would be different; that she could leave somewhere – anywhere – with Toby, live in a grungy one-bedroom apartment and live off of love rather than food… but for now, Rosewood was all she had.

"I'm sorry," Toby offered quietly, bringing her back from her daydream. "I know I do stupid stuff sometimes. But it drives me crazy when I can't do anything to help you. When you're not okay, it messes me up inside."

And with that, the last remnants of resentment ebbed away. How could she possibly stay angry with someone who literally traveled across the globe for no one's benefit but hers?

"Make me forget for while," she whispered, taking his hands and placing them on her waist. "Take this dress off me. Let's pretend it's just you and me, and this apartment, and the rest of the world doesn't exist."

Hours later, when she said goodbye to him in front of her house, she knew she would cling to the memories made in his bed till the next time she saw him.

* * *

Spencer honestly felt like if she didn't get out of the room _now_, she might strangle both her parents to death. It was at times like this that she realized it might just be her family's saving grace that they rarely sat down together for dinner. Her father sat there with his glass of wine like nothing was wrong, ignoring the fact that his wife was speaking to him only slightly more than his daughters were. He avoided even glancing at Melissa, as if he was afraid one look from him would make her spill her guts, and instead focused on Spencer, telling her repeatedly to lighten up. It was all she could do to stop from chucking her plate at him.

She excused herself as soon as was socially acceptable, muttering something about homework, and all but fled the dining room. She was dialing before she'd made it to the top of the stairs, and she heard her boyfriend's greeting just as her bedroom door fell shut.

She skipped all pleasantries and instead informed him, "I'm going to kill them, Toby. I don't care if I go to prison for a hundred years."

He chuckled through the phone. "You can't do that," he told her gently. "I'd miss you too much."

She threw herself down on her bed and didn't answer.

"What happened?" he inquired softly.

"Nothing, apparently," she bit back. "They're all acting like nothing's going on. They look at me like I'm crazy when I try to bring it up. To them I'll always be stupid little Spencer who's not smart or strong or sane enough to handle the truth."

He didn't speak, and she could practically feel him frowning on the other end of the line. "I'm sure that's not what they think at all," he said slowly after a moment, "but I hate that you feel that way."

"Everything is just so screwed up," she went on, feeling less agitated but somehow more pained. "My father really doesn't give a crap about Jason. I always thought, deep down… But he doesn't care if Jason goes down for killing his mother. As long as it's not someone with the precious Hastings name."

"Spencer–"

"He didn't do it, Toby. I know he didn't."

"Just the same," he spoke, his voice suddenly taking on a slightly firmer quality, "I want you to be careful around him until we can permanently rule him out."

She scoffed, feeling miserable as she told him, "You don't have to worry. He skipped town a few days ago and no one has heard from him since."

He sighed and immediately softened. "I'm sorry. I know what he means to you but maybe that's the best thing for everyone right now."

"Yeah." She pursed her lips together and left it at that. She didn't necessarily share this opinion, but she was too tired to argue. Especially since she knew it would be pointless anyway. They stood on opposite sides of the battlefield when it came to her safety. And while she remained convinced that she was only reckless when she needed to be, it still made her feel guilty sometimes that she put so little value on something that was so important to him. "Anyway. I should go, I'm behind in like every subject."

She heard undisguised amusement in his reply. "I seriously doubt that, but okay. I'll let you work."

"Toby, I…" Her voice trailed off, and it was as if her brain couldn't translate the doomed sensation in her gut into something they could both make sense out of.

"What?" he pressed softly, and with that one gentle push the words tumbled from her mouth.

"I just miss you so much."

Tears filled her eyes as she realized how true it was. He'd been gone for barely three days, yet it was if her heart, mind, body and soul ached for him on an actual physical level.

"I miss you, too," came his heartfelt reply, which caused salty liquid to spill onto her cheeks. She quickly wiped it away, even though he couldn't see.

"Maybe I can drive back tomorrow night to see you," he continued, and she could tell he was already making plans in his head.

"No," she interjected quickly. As tempting as it was, she couldn't let him do that. Guilford was two hours away, and he had to be on site at a freakishly early hour every morning. She refused to put him through that kind of hassle just because she was being a baby.

And so she forced herself to sound a little more carefree when she said, "Moment of weakness. I'll be okay."

He seemed doubtful. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." She laughed a little and sniffled. "Just call me tomorrow, okay?"

"Tell you what," he said instead. "Get your school work done, then get ready for bed and call me back. I'll talk to you till you fall asleep."

Her heart skipped a beat. "Really?"

"Really."

And suddenly, she was smiling. The little things he did for her always amazed her just as much as the big things. In fact, more often than not, she preferred them because they were so much easier to accept. "Okay."

"Okay." He was smiling, too, on the other end. "Later."

"Yeah. Later."

* * *

The next day, Thursday, he called her just as she was getting home from school. "What are you doing tomorrow?" was the first thing out of his mouth.

"I don't know," she replied, half laughing. There was a time when she would have her whole weekend planned in advance, but if there was one thing -A had taught her it was to live day by day. Plans got shot to hell anyway, so it was best if you didn't make too many.

"Good," he said briskly, "because I booked a motel in Bucks County."

"What?" she questioned after a moment, her voice higher than usual.

"You speak English, don't you?" he teased her. "Tomorrow night. You and me. Bucks County. It's in the middle between Rosewood and Guilford, and I have to be on site an hour later than usual the day after because it's Saturday. It's perfect."

"You didn't have to do that," she protested half-heartedly. "Toby, honestly. I'm fine, you don't have to–"

"You're welcome," he interrupted her, and she could tell he was grinning.

She was antsy all day on Friday, anxious that something would come up; that Alison would pull some stunt that would stop her from going, that the girls would need her or that some emergency would take place at home. But as the day wore on and nothing out of the ordinary happened, Spencer gradually started to believe that the universe would grant her this one thing.

That was, until Aria showed up at her locker after last period. "Hey," she offered. "We're all meeting up later at the Brew. Want to come?"

"I can't," Spencer answered hastily, but before she could elaborate Aria went on.

"Really? I was hoping maybe you could stay over tonight. My mom's back in Austria and my dad's in Harrisburg with Mike."

She didn't have to elaborate for Spencer to grasp exactly what she was getting at, and her heart swelled with sympathy. There was literally nothing worse than sitting home alone when your heart was broken. Spencer could attest to that.

"I thought with Toby out of town we could have a sleepover," Aria concluded hopefully.

"I'm meeting Toby," Spencer blurted out, afraid that if she didn't get that out there _now_, she would be sucked into staying not by Aria but by the obligations in her own head. "Tonight in Bucks County. Aria, I'm sorry, I didn't know you'd want to–"

"No, it's okay," the other girl shrugged it off and tried to smile. "You should go. You deserve some time with him."

"Ask Em," Spencer went on, finding she couldn't just show she was grateful and be on her way. "Hanna's out with Travis tonight but maybe Emily can–"

"Spencer. Don't worry about it, okay? Have fun." Aria squeezed her arm and was on her way before Spencer could say any more.

Making a split decision, Spencer took out her phone and texted Emily. It took some orchestrating, but ten minutes later she had Emily's assurance that Aria would be spending the night at her house, and Spencer could breathe a little easier. It sounded ridiculous even to her own ears, but she knew she would not be able to enjoy tonight if she was obsessing over Aria sitting home alone and brokenhearted.

Her meddling had made her late to her Decathlon meeting, and once she got there she found she had trouble focusing. She had fought tooth and nail to be allowed back on the team, so it seemed ridiculous that she so often felt out of place now. It was one of those things that had seemed of the utmost importance not so long ago, but she now wanted to ditch it in a heartbeat if it meant more time with Toby. She realized with some amusement that she had become the kind of girl she used to despise – the kind that put more value on their boyfriend than on their academics. It didn't bother her. She hadn't known what she was talking about then. When you were dating some jock that would dump you if you didn't put out, your grades should definitely come first. But when you were dating Toby Cavanaugh, he would always, always be more important.

It was past 5 p.m. when she tiredly made her way out of the school, hurried home and threw together an overnight bag. She cursed herself for not doing this the night before, for wasting precious time that could have been spent curled up in his arms. She texted her mother that she was sleeping over at Emily's, and then texted Toby that she was on her way. He texted back that he'd just arrived and that he couldn't wait to see her. She smiled and followed her GPS to Bucks County.

She flung herself in his arms the moment he pulled open the door, and they kissed and kissed until all their clothes came off seemingly on their own. He lifted her to the bed, where they kissed some more before he gently pushed inside her. And in the throws of passion, she forgot all about Aria, the Decathlon team and even -A herself. In this small, modest-looking motel room, she felt at home for the first time in five days.

* * *

"You want the last slice?"

Spencer shook her head, glancing at the almost empty pizza box and feeling more than satisfied. "Go for it."

They were one the bed, barely clothed – she was wearing his shirt and her underwear, and all his had on were his boxers – amidst rumpled sheets and indented pillows. The TV was on softly in the background but neither paid much attention to it, too distracted by the food and each other.

That is, until Freaky Foodies came on. Spencer squealed and lunged across his legs for the remote control to turn up the volume. Her loving boyfriend groaned when he saw what all the fuss was about.

"How can you watch that crap?" he asked somewhat exasperatedly. "It's disgusting."

"It's genius," Spencer argued, her eyes glued to the screen. "You just don't understand the beauty of it."

He set his feet on the floor with a deliberate eye-roll, reaching back for the now empty pizza box. He figured he might as well clean up a bit since Spencer was lost to him for the moment anyway. After throwing everything in the trash, he attempted to remove most of the crumbs from the bed, since they would be sleeping in it tonight. If he knew anything at all about his girlfriend it was that she would wake up crabby if there were pizza crumbs between her toes.

He crawled back in bed when he was satisfied, and pulled her into him arms. Her eyes never left the TV but she settled all the way into him, her head finding the hollow under his jaw.

"I'm being boring, aren't I?" she murmured, still fascinated by what was going on on-screen. "We can find something we both like after this, I promise."

He chuckled, pressing his lips against her hair before pulling back to look at her affectionately. "That's okay. I'll just stare at you all night instead."

At this, she tore her eyes away from the screen long enough to pull his mouth down to hers for a fiery kiss. She was not to be distracted from her latest TV obsession for long, but her fingers toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck as her head rested against him, twirling it around her fingers absentmindedly as the show went on.

She looked so mellow when credits rolled, so carelessly happy in a way that he hadn't seen her in a long time, that he considered not asking at all. It would be so much easier to just ignore it, to pretend everything in her world was fine and just enjoy each other's company for once.

But he knew that no matter how easy it was to distract her – no matter how happy he could make her with something as simple as a hug or a kiss – she would have to return tomorrow to the house and the people who had failed time and time again to provide her with what she truly needed. Materialistically, she was more than privileged; but emotionally they starved her sometimes to the brink of death.

"How are things at home?" he tried carefully.

Her blissful expression darkened just like he'd feared, and he hated himself for it. "Same," she said shortly.

"Do your parents know you're spending tonight with me?" he asked, tracing unknown shapes on her bare arm with his pointer finger.

She shot him a look that suggested he was crazy. "Oh yeah, that'd go over real well. 'Hey Mom and Dad, I know you already don't trust me but I'm off to spend the night with my boyfriend in a motel. See you later, bye.'"

Her voice was laced with sarcasm and her body felt significantly more tense than just a minute ago. He sighed. "Trust goes both ways, Spencer."

He knew at once he'd said the complete wrong thing. She moved away from him, a piercing look of betrayal etched across her hauntingly beautiful features. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," he said quickly, reaching for her, desperate to have her back. "I didn't mean it like that. It's just…"

"What?" she snapped, refusing his advances and remaining stubbornly rooted in her spot.

"You don't trust them either," he finished softly.

She stared at him for a moment before a scowl erupted on her face. "Can you blame me? They've been lying to my face ever since Alison first went missing."

"I know." He hesitantly tried again, running one hand down her back. "I'm sorry, okay? Come here."

He held out his arm but let her make the decision herself, knowing that usually worked better anyway. After a split second, she relented and nestled herself back into the solace of his embrace, breathing in deeply. He pressed a kiss to the skin between her eyebrows, his lips lingering for a seconds longer than was probably healthy.

They were silent for a while, but then she spoke, sounding like she was tired of life. "They've always made me feel…"

He waited for her to continue, but she didn't. He prodded softly, "What?"

"Alone," she finished. "I've always felt alone in that house. Ever since I can remember."

It pierced him. He knew what it was like to feel alone. It was worse than hunger, worse than cold. And the most devastating part was that it couldn't be fixed with something as basic as food or shelter.

"Hey…" He turned a little so he was facing her, connecting their eyes. "Listen to me, okay? One day, if you'll let me, I'll build you a house. You can design it, if you want. And I promise… no one living in that house will ever feel alone."

Some of the life returned to her eyes as she graced him with the smile that made everything worthwhile. "Can you build it away from Rosewood?"

"I'll build it anywhere _but_ Rosewood," he replied, eliciting a humorless chuckle for both of them.

"New York?" she asked. "California? Paris?"

"Anywhere you want," he repeated quietly.

She pushed him back against the pillows, moving entirely on top of him before brushing his hair back from his forehead with both hands. She kissed him lovingly, and his arms snaked all the way around her in response.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, and kissed him again.

"For what?" he managed to get out before he felt her lips press against his a third time.

"For being an idiot. For getting mad at you." She pulled away slightly to look in his eyes. "You're the last person in the world I should be getting mad at."

He rolled them over so he was on top, brushing their noses together. "I've said it before and I'll say it again. You never have to say you're sorry."

It was past midnight when they fell asleep, limbs entangled, dreaming of a beautiful house on the beach and a better tomorrow.


End file.
